[IC] Homer Park

[Typical]

Chloe “Clo” Wright

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^{Homer Park Airport || Monday, May 14th || Morning}

Clo kept a brisk pace as she entered the airport lobby, stopping under the airport’s enthusiastic welcome sign that Elizabeth—Liz, as Clo liked to refer to her—had mentioned to her during their call yesterday. It’d been a good month or so since she’d flown anywhere, and for Clo, that was a rarity. Keeping herself busy with travel was part of her job, since few people liked to read about a stagnant lifestyle, no matter how relatable it may be. This trip, though made for personal purposes, would also be integrated into her blog, just like everything else in her life. Sure the writing might require some dramatizing and her photos a little sprucing up, but overall Clo liked to keep true to the facts—so long as they fit the image she was presenting, that is.

Liz, the woman she was here to meet, was someone she’d met online after Liz reached out to her through her blog. Some friendly messaging later, Clo discovered a sharp personality and bright mind that she could count on bouncing ideas off of, and the two started chatting, then calling, on a regular basis. Of course, Clo was adamant about meeting Liz. Being a big people person, Clo believed that no interaction was as good as a face-to-face one, and since Clo was the freer of the two—blogging and freelancing rather than holding down a locational job—she volunteered to fly into the little town of Homer Park.

If Clo were being honest, she was much less than thrilled to learn that her intriguing friend lived somewhere as unglamorous as “Homer Park.” Having lived in dreary Portland for a good few years now, Clo had thought her own life uninteresting, yet here she was, volunteering to surround herself with nothingness. Were it not for Liz, Clo would have turned her nose up at the mention of small towns. Other than the occasional drive-through to snap some “returning to Earth” pictures and draft a homely and humble blog post, she’d never looked back after she’d left her home town, and she’d been glad she hadn’t.

“Liz!” Clo shouted, grinning and waving when she spotted the familiar face that she’d only ever seen through digital resolutions. “Clo, in the flesh!”

---

@OnionKnight

[OnionKnight]

Product placement was handled differently in Homer Park. Everything--from luxury cars to t-shirts that claimed the owner survived a visit in the empty room--is stripped of an markings that would indicate that it had been made anywhere but Homer Park. So to Elizabeth who drove that day, the only one of the twins that drives at all, the vehicle that conveyed her and her brother from the apartment garage to the airport was just a nondescript vehicle. The design on it was remarkable, however; the car's body was white like a piece of paper and on that paper were random drops of black ink. Hank thought it was interesting and though Elizabeth hated it at first, there was a strange euphoria felt when she realized the annoying people in her life kept their distance as if it was a bad omen. Regardless, she had made it there, where the majority of people who weren't from Homer Park frequented.

Chloe looked just how she had on the monitor. It wasn't a common occurrence, she knew, but sometimes people look like they do until suddenly they look like they don't. She expressed relief. "Oh, my dear Chloe! And I will say that, as that is your name, but you can call me Liz if you want. Everybody does that. Calls things as they see it, that is. I hope you will be able to lend those enthusiastic eyes to my brother. He can be a bit much, but there is no one as witty and steadfast." Elizabeth lead Chloe through the burgeoning crown, not hiding her displeasure with the situation as a frown crept from an isolated corner on her mouth to encompass her form; the incident of bumping into people she would never know, each time drove her to a slightly faster pace. In an expedited amount of time they made it to the car. She sighed. " Ah, what a disgrace I am. They are not, you are. So hard to handle."

Elizabeth made a showyy gesture as if her car was a work of art. " I don't know who possessed me to do it up like this, and I wish I could thank them. What do you think?" A moment after she said that, Hank opened the door from a seat in the back. He had two digital cameras strapped around his neck, shooting for two sequence of a different kind of photo of her. No flash, of course. Hank did have his manners, yet people did have their deceptions. When he was done he gently chastised his sister.

"I know you can't lie. But, remember to show, first. That's the fun bit!"

[Typical]

“Brother?” Clo echoed, surprised. She’d tagged Elizabeth to be an only child like herself, and hearing that such wasn’t so threw her a bit. “Well, if he’s anything like you, I’m sure we’ll get along fine.”

There was a decent crowd in Homer Park’s small airport, and as Elizabeth and Clo weaved through it, Clo saw a frown carve its way onto Elizabeth’s face.

“Everything okay?” Clo asked after Elizabeth sighed and said something about being a disgrace. “What’s wrong?”

When Elizabeth gestured at her car, Clo took it in with surprise. Void of markings, the vehicle lacked any particular identification other than the numerous black speckles dotting its surface. The strange pattern reminded Clo some modern art piece designed to evoke a specific emotion, though what she couldn’t imagine at the moment.

“I think it looks fascinating,” Clo said, instinctively reaching for her camera. She was interrupted, however, by the car door opening. A camera-armed man stood, snapping photos of Elizabeth and her.

When he spoke, Clo realized that he had to have been Elizabeth’s aforementioned brother. Seeing as he seemed to be interested in photography, Clo figured that she’d probably get along with him fine.

“I’m always open to new experiences,” Clo said with a grin as she stuck out a hand to the camera-wielding man. “Liz’s brother, right? I’m Chloe, but call me Clo.”

[OnionKnight]

Elizabeth didn't say anything about her brother. There were,abundantly,facts apperent of him, of course. Though as truths went, those served to offer no explanation.Sometimes a truth can't or perhaps shouldn't be a statement, not when the experience is what you look for when words have made you lost.

" Everything is not okay. But everything will be okay; time will change me so that I am not quickened and so that I don't think questions such as what is and isn't?" She replied with an honesty that did not betray her prior commitments.

It was Elizabeth who opened the passenger door, and it was she who also began loading Chloe's luggage into the car. Hank helped a little later, realizing that it wasn't just Chloe and him standing across from one another. Lunging for a bag, Hank by chance revealed bite marks as his leg was exposed for a second. Though he displayed no discoloration, a sign of infection, the bites were deep but at the same time the wounds were not wide enough to scream animal. However, then he turned to her.

" We wish to be gracious hosts," he said to explain his action. Hank's tone was uncertain compared to how he previously spoke to his sister. Now that he was done snapping pictures, his hands fidgeting, took happy refuge clasping Chloe's hand. His hands, too, were abused; bruised not like dealt in construction or beatings, but in killings where wounds were reflected upon him. With long pants and long sleeves, Hank thought that all was covered, yet there was still more to see.

He continued. " My name is Hank. You'll have to forgive Elizabeth for not mentioning me earlier. And to remedy that, I'll give you my grace. I'll call you Clo. She wont, and that won't change. She's good if you want to talk things out, hell, she might talk forever; however, of that infinity of things she could say, there are some things she won't ever say. Come to me if you want to hear that, or if you don't just want to hear, but feel that. And, if you are ready, we may go?"

[Typical]

Elizabeth’s words were a mystery, but they’d always been. And, like she usually did, Clo dismissed her friend’s philosophical ramblings that grew too far from the current reality.

“Oh, here, let me help with that,” Clo said when Elizabeth started moving her luggage, but was unsuccessful in doing so since her friend’s brother quickly stepped in. When the man moved, however, his pant leg shifted to reveal a curiously round bite mark. In another second, though, it was covered again, and Hank was attempting to explain something to Clo, albeit awkwardly.

“Nice to meet you, Hank,” Clo said with a grin. “And we can definitely hit the road.”

As he moved away, she glanced again at his hands. Though he struck Clo as more than just a hobbyist photographer, he had a fair deal of injuries that Clo rarely saw even on construction workers. Making a mental note to ask him about it later, Clo got into the car, closing the door behind her with a solid click.

[OnionKnight]

Elizabeth drove on the straight edge of the ruler that is law, that is, until she officially entered Homer Park town limits. Of course, that madman on the hill, who most everyone one pretends not to know, continues to insist that he remained in town. " I don't know about your damn statutes. My house was here long before the tides shifted and Gods among men became damned," proclaimed the insurgent who had no need of a megaphone that day or ever. His place was burning as they passed it on the way; people liked to set fire to that house but it was always that it's wood ate the fire and not the other way around. A madman sitting in a burning house, but madder still are those who set fire to that accursed place.

On coming into town Elizabeth no longer paid heed to stop signs or street lights, as they were never their, but to the wisdom gained from confronting death each time she started up the death machines known as cars. Surprisingly, at least for some, there was no incident of note besides the visage of a woman chasing a snake, toting her twin blades, challenging high heels her husband had bought as part of a matching outfit to impress the guys at work. She stabbed the reptile with the blades that retract when in contact with a squishy substance. Homer Park denizens have no unnatural phobias like a fear of snakes or spiders; no, they have proper ones like the ruin a man may bring to the world by attempting to rise above his station, using for instance, his wife's generous endowment to a totally legitimate charity.

"We're here," Elizabeth said, relating their new relative position to the apartment. The parking was quite unusual. Nearing the building it was probable that no space was available, on second look one space was available, and after exiting the vehicle, looking away, the car was gone. That's what it means to park in Homer Park. Knowing that there was a skyscraper in such a small town is one thing, seeing it from afar another, but entering it like walking out of a dream and into another dream come true. The building, from an outsider's perspective, seemed normal enough, the elevator possessing buttons that displayed floor numbers and even playing classical elevator music from 90's. Hank remarked sarcastically, " I wonder if Beethoven ever rode in an elevator."

Soon enough the party was at 6C. Elizabeth had one last thing to say before inviting her in. " I'm sure you will want to go around, ask questions, and generally, take pictures and things like that. That's completely fine by me. But, you see, though we are technically United States citizens, the consideration no longer applies to us because of the degradation of certain principles held to be true elsewhere. You've heard of the social contract, right? Well, in a little bit that's you will be tasked with coming to an agreement over. There'll be a city council member and a couple other officials who don't feel like explaining themselves yet. But first, we should eat. What are you in the mood for?"

Hank elaborated. " Don't worry, the meeting will be light. We have already negotiated on your behalf for all the rights a traditional American might have. Perhaps even more as most people think they have more rights than they really do under a government that doesn't even know how how to do the impossible."

Neither of them seemed in a laughing mood. Though the motivations behind what each said we're quite different. A twitch did betray Hank, however. He lusted after those mundane eyes that had heretofore been alien to his daily experience. He wondered how she would condemn him when she saw how he got dirty.

[Typical]

The town scene was unique in the way prairie homesteads and fisherman's’ wharfs were—unique in their dilly-dallying ways, yet altogether uninteresting to Clo, who’d long grown attuned to an upbeat city lifestyle. However, Elizabeth had urged her to come visit, and Clo was never one to refuse to travel, so here she was, surrounded by a town she would have otherwise had no interest in.

“Well, she was certainly something,” Clo said once they’d passed the woman with the heels. Still, strange people were everywhere, and the woman soon left Clo’s mind.

At Elizabeth’s assertion that they’d arrived, Clo turned to the window beside her, peering out at the building they were pulling up next to. There was nothing particular to note about it—not that she’d thought there would be anyway. When Elizabeth had finished parking, Clo helped with her suitcases, following Hank and Elizabeth towards where the elevators were.

“He wouldn’t have been able to hear the music anyway,” Clo said at Hank’s remark about Beethoven, flashing the man a grin.

At 6C, Elizabeth and Hank started a discourse about a meeting—one which Clo wasn’t informed of, and she hated not being in control of her schedule.

“Well, this is a first,” Clo said once the two siblings finished their explanations and reassurances. “I don’t think I’ve ever met with city council members to discuss my social contract as a visitor.”

When it became clear that the meeting was nothing to joke about, Clo figured she may as well change the subject. “What’s good around here?” she asked, setting down her suitcase. She could unpack later. “Any recommendations? You’re the locals.”